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#Like im Never oVER IT
springdai · 4 months
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Dean’s confession to cas in the trap is still so insane because like… he has NEVER been that open about his feelings in his LIFE. kneeling on the floor and crying and telling cas he doesn’t get why he is the way he is and he’s sorry and he forgives him and he hopes he can hear him. so much so that he says it twice. that WAS dean’s confession y’all. he bared his soul to him. and he was going to do it all over again in person in case cas hadn’t heard him? because he needed to say it, he needed cas to know? his face when cas says he heard his prayer, as if he had more to say? cas knowing that if he let dean say anything else, say the one thing they haven’t been saying, the empty might take him right then and there? im nauseous
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lilybug-02 · 2 months
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Pain is a great motivator…
Part 26 || First || Previous || Next
—Full Series—
Meanwhile Toriel:
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(Loud noises don't wake her up usually.)
Artist note: I’m so proud of this :))) I know it’s a lot of dialogue and reading, but dialogue is grueling work for me. I’m glad with the art and for the amount of pages I made in such a relatively short time span -w- page 5 was super fun to work on. A lot of blood, sweat, and hours here... :) The backgrounds were a big bore tbh, but I finished them! Yippie!
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bottombaron · 8 months
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The scarest thing about Nandor being actually smart in all things Guillermo is that this is the reason why he'll never make the move to be with him:
Nandor already knows how he feels about Guillermo.
He's not even repressing it. He's just made peace with it. Because Guillermo was never an option.
Guillermo is human. He'll choose to stay human. He's fleeting. He'll always leave in some form or fashion. Nandor doesn’t choose to act on his feelings for Guillermo for the same reason why he never turned him. It would just be a curse.
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inkskinned · 3 months
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yesterday while feverish i wrote about how boats can moor next to each other like pigeons, cooing with the gentle rap of water against their hull. you once said that that the way i see things - birds in the water, feathers in marina paint - was "childish and naive." you said i'd been misdiagnosed - "it can't all be adhd. you might be just kind of stupid and lazy."
i still do certain things like how you taught me - turn the pillow case inside out before putting it on. drive defensively. hate myself entirely.
the prompt for this poem is "mahler's fifth." i wish it wasn't, but mahler's fifth was our song. it ended up in my book. every person that knows your name has promised me they'll give you one swift rabbit punch, right to the face. dean read the book and showed up on my front porch, drenched in sweat from running the 8 miles at 4 in the morning. he was shaking. pacifist and gentle - he works with children - i'd never seen him furious. a punch isn't going to do it, he said, and then said i'm sorry. i had to come to see if you were okay.
mahler's fifth was mine first, like my girlhood. i like the way each movement piles onto the next movement, each instrument bleeding into the next. i like the horn version the best. before i met you, i danced to it on grass still-wet from sprinklers.
later you would tell me that the way you heard it was somehow better. you understood something in it that i couldn't quite wrap my fingers into. once, on our anniversary, you asked the classical music radio station to play it for us. we missed hearing it because we were fighting. one of the things people get wrong about abuse is that sometimes victims are, like, brutally aware of the stupidity of our situation. what do you mean that you thought i wasn't good enough for you? you? you're just... nothing.
sometimes people can pull the poetry out of your life. i watched my words become clothesline, and then thin out into kite twine. i watched you chew through every good syllable of me. so many good songs and places and moments were ruined. i am glad you didn't like most of my music - less to tie back to you.
but still mahler's fifth. the music swells, and i am 21 and throwing up in a bathroom on my birthday. a woman i will later refer to as lesbian jesus runs a cool hand down my back, her perfect pantsuit starch-pressed. she told me to leave you. she said - and this is true, and not an invention of rhyme or fantasy - i'm you from the future.
i am 22, and i got home from an award ceremony, and i remember you telling me - you act so proud of yourself when you're actually so fucking embarrassing. i took you to disney world. you took my virginity. i gave up visiting spain for a week with my family - i instead choose you, to spend the time just-cuddling. you called it "our fuck week." the music swells. it probably should have been a red flag that for about 3 years - i just gave up on crying. my grandfather died and you said nothing. my uncle died and you ghosted me for 3 weeks. you said i need to protect myself from your ongoing tragedy.
every so often i come back to the memory of one of our last afternoons in person. i had just told you that i wasn't going to law school, despite the free ride - i was going to join a creative writing program. master's in fine arts. i was going to finally do it - i was going to follow my dreams. this blog was already internet-famous. however reluctantly, i would occasionally refer to myself as a poet. i got into umass amherst's writing program for fiction authors. it is one of the the top 5 programs in the country.
wait are you seriously considering actually attending that? dumbfounded, you turned completely towards me in your seat. for the 3rd time in our relationship, you almost crashed the car. you actually want to be a writer?
the first time i went viral, it was for a poem i wrote about you:
he wants to say i love you but keeps it to goodnight because love will take some falling and she's afraid of heights.
every time i see that, i want to throw up. you weren't in love with me, you were in love with the control you had over me. a little truth though: i am afraid of heights. you caught a rabbitgirl and skinned her alive.
mahler's fifth still makes me sick.
give me that back. give me back music. give me back everything i had before you. give me back fearlessness. give me back bravery. give me back a scarless body.
give me back what you took from me.
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choccy-milky · 24 days
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MC doing what we all wished we could do (aka napping on the floor with ominis )😴💕
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wardingshout · 6 months
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started playing ooc but couldn't stop thinking about la so here's ww :) it makes sense 👍
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rubikor · 3 months
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would you hold my face softly and tell me it will be alright?
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driaswrld · 4 months
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it's raining outside, and higuruma is laying on your bedroom floor.
the soft pit-patter of raindrops coupled with his dancing fingertips against the exposed skin of your waist is a song you haven't quite learnt the tune to yet — he lays on his side, hair tousled and damp, dark strands curling over his forehead, sleeves rolled up and tie forgotten somewhere in the doorway.
admittedly, you're in no better shape. your cheeks are cold, skin of your calves wet with rainwater from running across the busy streets with him, armful of whatever ingredients you two picked out for dinner, his suit jacket held above your head and the occasional chorus of laughter when either of you stomp a puddle and splash the other.
it's raining, and higuruma thinks he falls in love with you every single day, like it's born anew.
he falls in love with the girl he wakes up next to, mouth open and cheek smooshed into the pillows. he falls in love with the girl who doesn't know a thing about law, but argues better than him in the heat of the moment. he falls in love with the girl who kicked her boots through puddles of rain, ruining his pants — the girl who made him laugh about something so mundane.
it's raining, and higuruma is laying on your bedroom floor, oddly paired with his formal white shirt and a pair of pajamas, his dress pants draped over the washer — the dryer broke a few days ago, he forgot — he holds you close as he watches the water droplets race against the glass window.
he loves you.
“do you like the rain?” you ask him, head tucked into his neck, his eyes fluttering shut for a second, the question is lost on him for a moment.
“i like you.”
you don't respond yet, and higuruma opens one of his eyes, only to find you staring at him. “more than you like the rain?” he almost laughs at that, almost, and he pulls you impossibly closer.
“a lot more than i like the rain, i’m sure.”
it's raining outside, and higuruma never really liked when it rained, not at all.
he proposed to you in spring. married you in summer.
but now he hopes it rains tomorrow, he hopes you still want him then, and he hopes you'll splash him with another puddle.
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spotsupstuff · 24 days
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day 16
without plants and equipment's skill issue version below:
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heartorbit · 3 months
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always by your side
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macksartblock · 1 month
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weird timing but s1 dads and their bastard fathers (and frank)
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ruporas · 1 year
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kiss the pain away
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redonionlover · 17 days
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sunstone..? perhaps???
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anon ur so real for this... they're my faves since i first played rw
havent drawn them in a loong time though so i doodled these real quick :^)
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papanowo · 1 year
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can’t wait for crosshairs mental illness arc
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bottombaron · 9 months
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just me thinking abt the insidiousness of the Familiar Clinic
a place where every familiar is recommended to be put down
not because of any injury or disease
but because their vampire cared about them enough to take them there in the first place
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